Colorless Color
by LateyGaga
Summary: AU: It Gets Better, or at least it was supposed to. But as Logan, Kendall, and James lives are dramatically changed and intertwined because of a Tragedy, is it possible to learn to love after such pain. Please Review. On Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

There was a cold feel in the air that early September morning, but no one seemed to think twice about it; It was Minnesota, what exactly did you expect? But that wasn't the only thing off that day. It seemed as though time knew there was a problem and was desperately trying to warn the students of St. Mary's Catholic High School to get away. To run away fast. To run away fast and don't look back, but of course, no one took heed.

Logan trudged in slowly on that September morning, having a crushing weariness weigh him down for no particular reason. He hadn't had P.E. recently and he was pretty sure he didn't do any strenuous activities over the past few days, but something was off. His stomach was churning and his head-ached, but he credited it all to an undiagnosed illness and moved on with his day, not paying significant thought to his body's warnings. This should have been a sign to not come to school today; to stay home and be sick or whatever it was, but of course, he didn't take heed the warning.

James strided with the usual layers of swagger to his step in an unusually careless way; for some strange reason, he felt really light-headed today, but he didn't mind because he thought I made him seem that much cooler. He did his best to continually play the whole 'to cool for school' character and today, it seemed like it could be easier. But it wasn't. He could hear the noises around him, but they sounded more like senseless babble than actual coherent speech. And everyone was passing by in a strange array of wind-like movements and blending colors. At the moment, James could swear he was high for all the feelings he was experiencing, but he didn't know why. He guessed he should have stayed home and let this ride it's course, lest he come off as a dumbass at school, but for some reason he didn't; he didn't take heed the warning.

Kendall moaned as he slowly walked to his locker, his desperate joints needing a break badly from the pain of just moving. He always though joint issues were for the elderly, but at the current moment, he felt like one twist could tear him apart. At first he thought it was yesterday's hockey game, but he honestly doubted that now. He'd played Hockey for most of his life and he'd gotten used to the blows you would take in the game. In a strange way, he even enjoyed them, but today he was in pain. He could barely move and he regretted not listening to his sister on what to do about it. He should have stayed at home and rested like he always did when he was worn out; he knew his mother wouldn't care. When did she ever fucking care? But he didn't, and he still wasn't exactly sure why; he didn't take heed the warning.

Carlos walked in with his usual appearance; a big black, swollen eye with messy, undone hair and wrinkled clothes. It was apparent that he had just gotten beaten up like he did every day before school. And every day after school. And just about every day in general. But something was different with him today; he didn't take heed the warning, yet he knew what it was. And he had reason for that as he limped forward. Because he was what the day was warning about.

"I'm so sorry," Logan said when they saw the Latino boy's locker, "I, I, I don't know what to say besides sorry."

"What, did you do it," Carlos responded with a grin slowly curling his lips.

"NO!" Logan shouted, instantly hurting his own head with the noise, "Iwouldneverdothattomybestfrie-,"

"Calm down Logalete," Carlos replied, making Logan squirm at the sound of the nickname, "It was a joke. Haven't you ever heard of sarcasm?"

"Well, Well, yes, but," for some reason, the brunette was having trouble rationalizing the situation correctly, "but It's just a bad day for me. My nerves are kind of shot and my head really hurts."

"Are you okay?" Carlos said while caressing Logan's cheek softly.

"Carlos, you're the one with the black-eye," Logan responded while finally putting the combination in, "Plus, that." He motioned to the slur written across the locker; 'FAG' was written across the red, metal rectangle in big, black spray painted letters. How could people be this cruel?

But Carlos just laughed a little, "I'm, I'm fine … I guess," the smaller Latino boy looked away and Logan started to get frightened. Something was off with his friend today.

"Look C-los," the brunette tried to be as caring with him as possible, but there just was something wrong today, "What's going on; you can tell me anything, you know that better than anyone."

Carlos looked up slowly, "Look Logan, I, I just, I've been having bad thoughts lately, and, and I'm scared," the Latin boy swept the floor with his eyes.

"Tell me right now Carlos, are you alright," Logan was urgent when he grabbed Carlos by the arms and tried to be more forceful. What the hell was going on?

"Ha. How come you're getting rough at school," Carlos responded, "when I asked for you to act more like this at home."

"This isn't funny, what's up with you right now," Logan's haze was getting worse slowly as he was confronting his friend, "What's going on…." And then the brunette went down and felt the Latino boy's pocket.

"Look Logan," Carlos said with a different, frightening intensity, "Don't try to stop me, this needs to happen. They need to learn."

"Please, please don't do this. I'll take you home and we can put that away and we can even stay home and watch movies all day."

"No."

"What, what do you want. I'll do anything to just not get you to do that. Please," Logan started to feel the tears well in his eyes, "Please, tell me, I'll do anything. "

"I want you to get out of here; Get out of here right now and don't look back. This is happening with or without you here, but I don't want to hurt you Logie. Don't make me hurt yo-,"

"Calm it down butt-fuckers," A few of the football boys said as they walked up behind the two jittery friends.

"Fuck off Cal," Carlos responded in a harsh tone while Logan looked on in horror; as soon as he saw the foot-ball captain walk up, he realized it was over. This was going to happen.

"Look Fag, I'm just trying to help you not get the crap beat out of you," the tall, red head said back, "Then again, I do enjoy beating the crap out of you." The boys all laughed while Carlos glare got even sharper. And then the brunette saw the flash of black and the shrill sounding screams.

Carlos pulled the gun from his pocket and fired into the air while the bullet sailed through the big lights above. The raining glass and sparks seemed to scare everyone, but he merely stood there with his glare, staring daggers at the boy in front of him.

"SO YOU ENJOY BEATING THE CRAP OUT OF ME," Carlos screamed in the cowering football players face, "DO YOU ENJOY IT NOW." The Latin boy put the gun under the bigger boys chin while Cal started to cry.

Yet Carlos looked on unchanged, his expression staying stern and cold in the face of the quivering boy he was holding the gun too. He didn't show fear or terror and at the same time, he didn't seem hysterical or mad; he merely looked as if he were Justice itself. The pure embodiment of Vengeance.

"Pa-Pa-Please don't' ,da-da-do this," the football captain whimpered out while he steadily shook from fear.

"Now where have I heard that before," the Latin boy responded coldly, holding the gun readily under the other teen's chin, "When have I ever. Seen. Such. Terror."

"I-I-I'm sa-sa-sorry for w-wh-what I di-did ta-too you," the red-head replied on the brink of tears.

"SORRY DOESN'T MEAN IT DIDN'T HAPPEN," Carlos barked out, "Sorry makes me want to do this that much more."

Finally the football player broke down in tears, "P-P-Please Da-Don't Ka-Ka-Kill *sob* Ma-Ma-Me," he was desperately stumbling over his own words, his heaving chest forcing him to bump up closer to the loaded gun. Carlos looked on with the smile from before slowly returning.

Logan was afraid, but he couldn't watch a death and immediately, he dove for the weapon, but Carlos dodged his blow, forcing the brunette to land hard in the lockers. He had accomplished one thing though; Cal was out of harm's way. Just cause he was an ass, didn't mean he deserved to die. No one ever deserved to die. But as soon as the Latin boy realized this, his cold stair of daggers turned quickly to Logan.

"FUCK," he hollered at the frightened brunette in the corner, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck Logan. Why? Why would you do that? Why would you protect him?" Carlos still kept the killer glare on Logan, but with his back to the crowd, things started to change.

"I-I-I, Carlos, da-don't do tha-tha-this to everyone, pa-pa-pa-put the gun down and we ca-can just go home," Logan was desperate to just get Carlos to stop all of this; he was his best friend. His only friend. He couldn't lose him like this; not with him doing something so despicable.

"No, No, No. No more excuses for them Logan, No more taking up for them when they do this to us," Carlos was pacing, the few students left in the hallway cowering out of fear when he would realize that so many had escaped, "Fuck. Why? Why wouldn't you let me kill him?"

"It would have ruined your life Carlos; Is that what you want, to end up in Jail and never get to see anyone again. Prison isn't fun." Logan was still scared, but he had to do his best to at least try to be forceful with Carlos

"It's better that this; anything is better than this," Carlos responded while putting his arms in the air, "Look, Look at this place and these people. Look what they do to us Logan."

And the worst part of all was that the brunette didn't entirely disagree with the Latin boy; they were both abused so much on a daily. When Logan first came out, he never really thought people would care that much. He wasn't like some big important person in the school or something like that, yet it caught on around the place like wild fire. All of his friends ignored him. He was kicked off of the Quiz Bowl team. He started to get preached to by the teachers more often.

Logan was forced to learn that day that you shouldn't come out while in Catholic School.

But nothing was worse than what happened to Carlos; he came out a few months later while he was still very involved in everything. Especially sports. Immediately, the football team beat the crap out of him in the locker room and almost broke his nose. After that, he quit the baseball team quickly because he didn't want to endure that kind of pain again. And he had every intention of leaving the hockey team if they said anything, but for some reason, they were different; the team captain made a point of not letting anyone attack Carlos. But he also didn't make anyone stand up for him.

So Carlos ended up having it ten times harder than Logan ever did; he would get beat up on a daily basis. That never happened to the Brunette. He was ignored and made fun of, but never did he face any kind of violence. So Logan couldn't say Carlos was entirely wrong. Still, this wasn't right. No one deserves to die.

"Please Carlos, P-Pa-Please don't do this," the brunette pleaded one last time, "I beg you, don't do this now, think about the consequences."

"I have," Carlos responded coldly, "I've thought long and hard about all of this and I realized something," Carlos lowered the gun to face Logan, "We shouldn't have to endure this life anymore."

Logan started to breath harder when he was faced with the barrel of the gun to his face; he, he never imagined dying like this. His jaw started to tremble and his eyes got wide when he saw Carlos take a step closer.

"I'm sorry Logie," the Latin boy said as he stepped forward with the weapon, "but we're better off."

Logan took his last breath while looking around the hallway and realizing that this could be his last moments of life. Why was this happening? What did Carlos hope to gain from this. And Logan just started to cry when he felt the cold black tip of it touch his forehead. This was the end. The end of everything.

"Pa-Pa-Please don't ha-hurt me Ca-Carlos, I-I, I don't wa-wan-want to da-die," the brunette pleaded for the last time.

But then something happened; the gun went off, but somehow, Logan was still alive. He was still breathing and his head wasn't bleeding, but he had heard the shot. He could smell the gun in the air. Immediately, he opened his eyes to see a blonde boy wrestling with Carlos for the weapon in his hands; but he was still so confused.

He heard the gun go off again and the blonde teen rolled over, bleeding badly from the wound he had just received.

Carlos stood back up with the gun in hand and looked at Logan before putting the weapon up slowly, "Look Logan, I –I- I, I loved you," and then he put the gun up to his chin.

The brunette screamed before slamming himself into Carlos's legs to try to get him to not do this, to stop and quit. He refused to give up on the idea of Carlos not doing it, but it was too late.

"Da-Don't do this Ca-Car-Carlos *sob* I I la-love you too," Logan moaned out, not wanting his best friend to pull the trigger.

Carlos put his other hand through the brunette's hair before placing his finger on the trigger, "Bye Logie."

And then he pulled the trigger, the boom of the gun sending a jolt through the Latin boy's body before he tipped over, life immediately leaving him.

Logan could feel it happen; he could feel every minute of it and it was horrible. It was something no one should ever endure. Or do. Or see, but it was too late.

He could feel a pair of arms lift him up and whisper things to him while a rag wiped away at his face, taking swift strides down his tear ridden cheeks.

"It, It's okay, just ba-breath."

Logan tried to follow the direction, but he was absolutely still terrified.

The day was Monday, September 11, the day that the Twin Towers were attacked and destroyed, a tragedy that caused a whole nation to change. And on that day, ten years later, St. Mary's was giving a dose of real, pure terror.

And it was terrifying.

**Author's Note: I really hope this didn't feel insensitive or anything that could offend people cause I know just how sad today is. Ten years ago, a terrible tragedy reshaped this nation. I don't really know where I go the inspiration to do this, but I just felt the tragedy and terror thing fit today. It's going to be my next ongoing, but it will probably be a while till the next chapter comes out. It's very, very dramatic, so it's pretty much what I always do. I hope it wasn't too ridiculous or serious and hopefully, you enjoy it enough to read again. I'm still going to finish I'm Not Your Toy, but I felt it was necessary to post this. So comment and review and let me know what you think. Luv Ya. XoXo**


	2. Chapter 2

The day was a cold and dark one, a week after that fateful September 11th that reshaped the town of Linn, Minnesota. The funeral was a dry one with very few people actually showing up to say good-bye to the boy, but Logan was there. Of course he was there.

What reason would he have not to be?

Carlos had held the gun to his head; he had threatened to take his life, but for some reason, he justified it with love. The brunette just couldn't entirely wrap his mind around that. How do you kill someone out of love?

But there were still a lot of questions left for Logan about why what happened, happened and why it all happened that day. It seemed insensitive of his best-friend; it seemed cruel and calculated to pick such an important day. Then again, the suicide note did explain some of it.

_Dear Logan, _

_I'm not exactly sure how to start this letter because honestly, I've never really written anyone a letter, but I'm giving it my best shot. I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt you and I'm sorry if I succeeded. I'm sorry if I failed and left you all alone. I'm sorry. But I can't do this anymore; I can't keep up with all this shit that life's been throwing at me. You don't understand what it's like to be me. It's easier for you; people like you more. No one likes me. Who could ever like me?_

_I wish I was never born with this; the thing that forces me to do what I have to do today. But I can't deny myself. And that's why I have to die. There's no other way that's clear to me around this and there's no salvation for me in the end. I could leave St. Mary's, but the treatment would be all the same because we've been imposed with a curse. A crushing, crushing curse. There was a time I didn't feel this way, but there also was a time I was happy. There was a time I believed I'd live forever. _

_I realize now that that's not going to happen any longer because I simply cannot take this life anymore and the crap it has to offer me. I just hope I don't hurt you in the process. But if I do, it's for our own good. You don't deserve the cruelty either. You're worth so much more than that. _

_I know that today was the wrong day to do this, but I just can't wait anymore. I guess I kind of chose this especially. I don't want to be forgotten. It's not a good reason for anything, but it's the only explanation I can leave you with why I'd do this on 9-11. Maybe what I've done will make people notice what I went through. To realize just how much words and blows hurt. I don't think I deserved that. Not for just being me, but I can't take it anymore. To prevent another me from happening. If it doesn't, it's still going to happen. _

_It's the only way left any longer. _

_I loved you, _

_Carlo_

The letter ended here, some-what abruptly, some-what not, but it didn't make any of this any easier to handle for Logan.

Why? Why would Carlos choose that day of all the days in the whole fucking Calendar? The brunette didn't slightly believe that 'remembrance' excuse. But he didn't know if he didn't believe it because he knew the Latin boy well enough or because he just didn't want to.

How could someone be so selfish about a day so personal and painful for so many people? Logan couldn't comprehend it at all. Why pick that day of all the ones he could have picked. Even if he had waited till the next day, it would have been better. Anything would have been better. But it was too late for that now. It was too late for a lot things. Yet, he didn't have time for that at the moment because he was at the funeral.

The funeral of his best-friend in the world, Carlos Garcia. The funeral of the boy who attacked a local High School and tried to murder the students. The funeral of the boy who chose September eleventh as a day to hurt people. The funeral of the boy who was so hurt and damaged that his only way out was this.

And that was what hurt most of all for Logan about the current situation; that he was so damaged that he would kill himself rather than stay, even if it was just for the brunette. He knew it was a selfish pain, but that didn't make it any less real for him. He loved Carlos; he honestly loved him like his own brother, someone always there to confide too. The Latin boy knew his secrets; all his tiny little things that made him tick. And without him now, it was as if he had lost a part of himself.

It was hard for Logan to accept that so few people showed to the event; he thought that at least the hockey team would, but no, it was simply Carlos's parents, a few cousins, and himself. Maybe a crowd of twenty or so people, maybe less. The brunette couldn't see through his tear ridden eyes well enough to find out.

But he knew why people didn't come; this was a funeral for a psychopath. Someone who tried to harm children and teachers who were all innocent of any real wrong doing. That's why. Because it was the funeral for a murderer. Or at least a would be one.

Which made Logan cry even more because his friend was such an amazing person. He was lively and excited; energetic and ready. Even though all of the pain he went through on a daily basis, he still had energy to survive. To laugh at immature jokes and pull pranks at the most inappropriate times possible just cause he could.

So Logan wondered about what exactly made Carlos break; here had to be a missing piece to all of this that he just wasn't getting yet. With tears streaming down his face, he merely stood there and thought.

What could force such an incredible soul over the edge?

And then felt the pat on his shoulder.

"Um," the taller boy started, unsure of how to start the conversation, "Hi, my name is James. James Diamond. I was, well….."

"You were the b-boy who *sob* picked me up after Ca-Carlos da-da-died," just saying the Latin boy's name brought him to heavy tears now.

Because just hearing the taller boy's voice brought back the day too vividly for Logan; it made him feel the blood splatter again, the way life left his best friend. He could feel the strong arms lift him up again and he could see the bleeding blonde boy on the floor. He could hear the gun clatter; the hard smash to the floor that he could tell was Carlos body falling. That's why he was crying at the moment; cause the memories the bigger boy brought were just too much for him to handle.

"Yeah," replied the tanned teen that was still awkwardly standing behind him, "So … how are you doing."

"We're at a funeral *sob* Ja-Jake,"

"It's James."

"Sorry," Logan replied meagerly, desperately just wanting the other boy to go away.

"It's fine," James responded, finally stepping up to stand besides Logan while the Priest did his blessing, "But you never answered my question."

"I didn't tha-think I had too," the smaller boy said while starring forward, "I tha-tha-thought it wa-would be utterly ob-obvious *sob*."

"Oh Right," James whispered, realizing the state the smaller boy was in finally, "So, uh, how did you know Carlos."

Just hearing his name right now made Logan worse and in a particularly painful moment, he thrust himself into James's chest in tears, accidently balling the dark fabric of the jacket in his wake.

"I-I-I'm sa-sa-sorry," Logan said, again, to the taller boy, "I-I did-,"

"It's okay, it's okay," James cooed while wrapping his arms around the smaller boy who was sobbing and interrupting his muddled words, "its fine, but I have to admit, I've never really comforted someone before, so, so tell me I'm doing anything wrong."

The shakiness in James voice made the brunette giggle a little, but the flooding tears ruined that as soon as it came, "Ya-You're doing ja-just fine."

Logan didn't know why he was letting the bigger teen do this for him, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. He had some-what known who James was, but they had never actually talked before that time; everyone just knew James because of how incredibly good looking he was. You would have to be blind, deft, and dumb to have never heard of James Diamond, the crown jewel of Linn Minnesota. But besides that, he didn't know the boy that well. Which made the moment all the more bizarre.

The priest finally said the final blessing over the coffin before it was slowly lowered, but Logan no longer found the heart to watch anymore. He knew he should, it's what any good friend would have done, but he just couldn't; he wasn't ready to say his final good-bye. So he buried himself deeper into James, wanting to simply block out the rest of the world. And the taller boy noticed.

"Umm, kid," James finally got out, "why don't we go now. I don't think you can handle this."

Logan let out a small sound before the tanned teen wrapped his arm around the other boy's hip and walked him forward. Out of the green grass. Out of the glossy gray stones. Out of the horribly dreadful cemetery and into the parking lot till they finally found James's car. It was beautiful and shiny, but Logan had no idea what the hell kind of brand it was.

And it made him cry even worse when he thought about the fact that Carlos probably would have. He would have named the kind and the style and the year. And now he couldn't because he no longer existed.

"No, No, don't cry, it'll all be okay," James whispered to the brunette who was still hugging close to his side, "It's all gonna be okay, just calm down."

"I-I can't *sob* I ca-can't sta-stop," Logan cried out, squeezing the taller boy as tight as possible, "I da-don't wa-wa-want you to *sob* ta-take me ha-home."

"Okay," James responded, a little confused at why he'd say this, but not taking it to seriously, "then I'll take you to my house."

"Wha-What," the brunette tried to say, but ended up stuttering while quickly wiping tears away, "I-I-I just learned your na-name; Wha-Why do you wa-want me to ga-go home with you."

"Well, I'm not leaving you here and I sure as hell don't trust you to make it by yourself in your current state," James gestured to the smaller boy who's heaving chest was almost sending him to the ground, "I'm about the only thing between you and the gravel right now. So you're coming home with me. Now."

Logan just nodded as best he could while the bigger boy put him into the passenger seat carefully before swiftly shutting it and crossing the car to his side. The brunette watched him intently, not wanting to miss a moment, but for more reasons than the obvious. He was questioning James intentions in all this. Why would this gorgeous boy he'd just met care so much about him; no one was possibly this nice. Logan was smarter than that.

"So, kid," James started again, still not aware of the name of the boy next to him, "What grade are you in?"

"I'm in the sa-same grade as ya-you James," Logan replied while wiping away tears with his sleeve, "I-I'm the Ma-mathlete kid." The brunette always hated that nickname, but it was better than the other one. The one that was spray painted across Carlos's locker a week ago.

"Sorry, not sticking out to me," The tanned teen responded while gripping the wheel with strange intensity, "Anything else I might know you for."

Logan really didn't want to have to say it, he desperately just wanted the questioning to end; to mourn his friend the way he had originally intended, but he did anyway for some reason. "I-I'm the gay kid." He said it as quickly as possible without it becoming slurred so that he wouldn't have to watch James react. This was always the part where it all went down-hill; the moment the straight boy found out he was gay.

"Oh," James replied slowly, his obvious analyzation of the situation slowly frightening the smaller boy who was currently clutching his stomach.

"La-look, if you aren't com-comfortable, I can ga-go," Logan finally said when they came to red light, "I can fa-find my way ha-home from here. Pra-Promise."

"NO," the tanned boy yelped out on accident, "No, No, I don't want you to leave."

"I-I don't want to ma-make this uncomfo-fortable for you, I know how it ca-can be to sa-say you were out with the ga-gay kid," the brunette replied, hating the awful bite at the end of the statement because it shouldn't be so hard. And yet it was.

"Now why on Earth would that be," James said while continuing to stare forward, "what the hell does the fact that you're gay have to do with absolutely anything."

"Wa-well," Logan had never really thought about it like that, but James was right, what did that have to do with anything, "It's ja-just, every time a stra-straight guy finds out, there's always trouble."

"Thank god I'm not straight then," the taller boy replied, a smile curling his lips, "cause that could make this awkward." James climbed across the seat and planted a kiss on top of Logan's soiled cheeks. "Lighten up kid, I don't give a damn what you are, I'm just worried about you."

"So wa-will your parents have a pro-problem with me being over," the brunette said, still relishing the tiny kiss from before in a strange way.

"Ha," James let out before pulling in front of a mansion, "as if they gave a damn about anything I did." Immediately, he got out of the car and opened the door for the smaller teen while helping him walk again.

"I can da-do it James," Logan said, knowing good and well that if the tanned teen were to let go of him, he would topple onto the ground immediately, but to proud to admit it, "You da-don't have to ca-carry me."

"I insist," James replied with a smile on his face while he wrapped his arm around the smaller boy's hips, "but I could be doing this just to feel you up."

"Na-Not funny," Logan said while grabbing his hand, "I'll let you ga-go just for that statement."

"While it would be funny to see you swimming with the Koi in the pond, I'd prefer to not have to deal with cleaning it up, so why don't you just hold onto me and hold on."

"Okay," the brunette whined, giving up on any shred of independence up the stone steps, "I guess I'll let you wal-walk me."

"Good kid," James said with a grin, "but I just have one question; what exactly is your name."

Logan blushed red before returning to himself and responding, "La-Logan. Logan Mitchell." But it still wasn't the same with Carlos not by his side.

**Author's Note: Crappy Chapter I know, and I'm not entirely sure where the story is going yet, but it's still a Kogan, not another Jagan. Well, I've never actually done an official Jagan, but I consider the first few chapters of LiM Jagan. Anyway, so this story is going to go on hiatus for a while, while I work on finishing it and in that time, I'll be posting sexy one-shots, so look out for that. Starting with a long awaited Jarlos. Review and tell me what you think about it all. Luv ya. Xoxo.**


	3. Chapter 3

Logan currently, really, really, didn't want to be in that perfectly sanitized hospital; he desperately wanted to still be at James's house, sleeping off the tears that were coming so much lately. But no, the taller boy said that he had to see the blonde boy from before who jumped the gun, literally, and saved him. He was thankful, but it didn't make any part of this whole situation less awkward.

He didn't know the boy. Logan had no idea who exactly he was and why he'd do it, but he knew that he'd have to go see him. To be grateful and apologetic, all while in the face of utter destruction, for the teen that had saved him. And though he was happy that this new boy, James, was with him, it didn't make it any easier to handle.

Yes he still wondered, why had the boy done it exactly? He knew that he didn't know the teen that had done it and he knew that the blonde boy had taken a real, painful bullet for him, but he still wondered, why?

No one really liked Logan; he knew that, so Carlos really was his only friend at St. Mary's Catholic. Everyone just knew the brunette as the dorky gay kid who didn't speak much. So why would this person he'd never seen before take a hit for him? Logan believed in good people, but that was taking it to new extremes; there had to be another reason that wasn't exactly clear to him yet.

If Logan had died that day, sure, it would have been a loss and the school may have even mourned him, but it wouldn't have been genuine? No one would have known him well enough to have anything to cry about; the only people that gave a damn about Logan were the ones who would bully him. Them and Carlos.

Carlos, his one and only friend. Carlos, his would be killer. Carlos, the only person he'd ever truly learned to love. And without the Latin boy there, it didn't matter how many Jameses were there to comfort him because the pain was just too much. Without his friend by his side all his, all his courage was gone, leaving the world a colorless, ghastly monochrome. Everything seemed to have a colorless color; an emptiness that desperately needed to be filled.

But without Carlos, it couldn't.

And maybe that's why he was so afraid to enter the hospital room of the boy who'd taken the blow for him. Because he had to realize that Carlos did this. That he hurt this person and would never be back to apologize for it, leaving another thing empty – another color left absolutely colorless.

"Come on kid," James urged, lightly pushing Logan forward to the door, "You don't have anything to worry about."

"But, but," Logan was desperate to come up with an argument to not have to this, "but what if he doesn't want to see me because, cause, he took so much pain for me and I'm not even worth it." The brunette hugged himself tight to show how closed to the idea he was but of course the tanned teen didn't listen.

"Now how on earth could anyone regret saving you," James started, getting closer to Logan get him to open up, "You're pretty and smart and pure and perfect. There's not a thing to regret about saving you. It's like saving an Angel."

"You think I'm an Angel," Logan responded enthusiastically, obviously falling for the compliments.

"Sure, what-ever you want, you just need to go in there," James replied, slowly backing away.

"Wait, you aren't coming in there with me," the smaller boy whimpered out.

"I'll be right back," James said, making his voice reach a higher pitch, "Plus, I don't owe him."

"I. Owe. Him." Logan responded cautiously, not liking the way the statement tasted in his mouth.

"Yeah, you at least owe him a 'hello,'" the taller by said while walking away, "plus I have to go check my hair; I think I felt the cuda hold break."

"Yeah, you go do that," the smaller teen said with a tiny grin at the ridiculousness of James and his beauty routines. But that didn't make this situation any less tense. Nervously, he turned around into the door behind him, yet he didn't open it. Instead, he stood still to hear James's footsteps disappear and then he started to think.

If he tried right now, he could run away and escape going into that room with the person who saved him. He could get away right now and take a bus to his home. He wouldn't have to face the blonde and he could avoid James, but he had to get away first. Then the door swung open.

"Kendall!" the small girl in the doorway shrilly screamed,"you have a visitor. A very, very cute visitor."

Logan blushed a deep red when the little girl said that and he could tell she did it on purpose; the devious smile on her face gave that away instantly. So he walked in slowly, letting himself feel comfortable as he passed through the sturdy metal door frame and into the bright, white room. Then he saw the blonde.

**Author's Note: I know what you're thinking; you're thinking ****WHAT THE HELL!**** You end right there with less than a thousand words written and with the last line, "Then he saw the blonde." Well, I have something important to tell you about this story. I love every story I write individually like they're my babies. I may hate the way they go and I make think they suck, but no matter what, they're my version of children and I put a lot of work into coming up with the ideas and writing it out in the most detailed, dramatic fashion possible. And when I start to resent one of my babies, I have a problem. **

**Recently, I've begun to resent this story. **

**So I have to do something I never ever wanted to do and put this story on hiatus. I'm not cancelling or quitting this story, but for now, I'm putting it on a break for a while. A long while. But I make you this swear on, on, on Gaga (yup, I'm swearing on Gaga) that I will finish this story. I don't care if it's five chapters, but I'm going to finish this and it will turn out Kogan in the end, but at the moment, I simply can't do that. Don't hate me for this. I love you all too much to hate me. No, instead I hope you can just put up with the wait and accept that this will take a while. So be looking out in a few months for when this story continues. And I don't care if it only has three readers, because it will get finished. And I will love the finish. It will just take longer than the time I've given myself. So don't hate me too much and know that this isn't over. Not by a long shot. Not with the last line, "Then he saw the blonde."**

**On Hiatus. For Now!**

**On the bright side, I do have a new ongoing that's starting on Friday that should be okay; it isn't as dramatic as this at first, but you know me; I'll get there.**

**Luv ya. XoXo.**


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